Seven
by Dr. Austin A. Winchester
Summary: Seven couples. Seven agents. Seven hours to save two of their own. The race against time starts now as the BAU tracks a killer targeting interracial couples. A team fic with some Demily.
1. Sinners

_"You shall not intermarry with them,giving your daughters to their sons or taking their daughters for your sons, for they would turn away your sons from following me, to serve other gods. Then the anger of the Lord would be kindled against you, and he would destroy you quickly." -Deuteronomy 7:3-4_

"Come on Princess, you're not that tired."

One glance at the wall clock in the diner and he knew they were right on time. 11:30. The couple hardly ever missed their scheduled Sunday morning brunch date. He was holding her hand, practically pulling her over to an empty booth.

"I might be a little sore and tired from the five extra laps you wanted to do, Derek," the brunette woman replied to her husband's teasing. "But I can still kick your ass."

God, she was pretty. Even with her dark hair tied back and drenched in sweat from a vigorous morning workout, she was pretty. She was tall and in good shape, just his type. He always liked when woman took care of their bodies. Yet, that beautiful woman on God's good earth was a sinner. She was tainted and openly living a sin and for that she would be punished. The Lord does not like sinners and she would pay. Like the bible said, sinners would be destroyed quickly. She went against the word of God. _You shall not intermarry. _It was plain as day in the bible, yet she chose to marry that black bastard. As much as a waste it would be to see one so pretty destroyed for her wrongdoing, it must be done. Even if she confessed her sin, it'd be too late. So_ the Lord was very angry with Israel and removed them from his presence._

If only she had met a real man, a righteous man before she decided to openly go against the truth of the Lord. But soon. Soon, he would show her the error of her ways. Soon, she would beg for mercy. Soon, he wouldn't only be watching her from the zoom lense of a camera.

_Click._


	2. The Case

Yawning, Emily Prentiss dropped her pen and stretched her arms behind her back. Slumping her shoulders, she picked her pen up again and stared at the open report laying on her desk. Although there was only a simple divider seperating her and Reid's desks, it seemed like the two agents were in completely different worlds. Emily was tired from the long day they'd had wrapping up another case and while she wanted the paperwork pile to diminish, seemed to drag it out becuase she had no motivation to simply do it. Meanwhile, Reid's stack of files got shorter and shorter every minute as his pen vigorously scribbled against the paper.

Not too far away, Derek Morgan pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up. Grabbing his go bag from under his desk, he waved goodbye to his colleagues, saying something about having to go home and feed his dog Clooney. Both agents still busily at work said goodbye to their co-worker without taking their eyes off of their reports.

"How'd you get done so fast?" Emily inquired, glancing over at Derek's desk. The desk top was completely void of any files. Meanwhile her stack seemed to increase in size instead of decrease. However, she recieved no answer from the man as he winked at her before throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading for the glass doors to step out into the hallway and disappear into the elevators.

"He slipped you half of his files when you went to refill your coffee," Reid explained.

"Nice try, Buddy," the tired woman said, an amused grin on her face as she pushed out her chair. Grabbing the top half of the stack of files on her desk, she wheeled the chair over to Derek's desk and plopped them down.

Blonde hair whizzed past Derek, causing him to turn around. His gaze was immediately drawn to the blonde communications liason rushing past up to the catwalk to the Unit Chief's office. JJ apologized, waving a manilla folder in her hand to get their attention. Groaning, Derek dropped his bag with a defeated slump of his shoulders. Then glancing over at Emily, he shrugged his shoulders and followed the blonde. Emily and Reid followed not too far behind him.

The team gathered in the conference room, patiently waiting for JJ to show bring up the horrid images they all knew awaited them. Six pairs of wandered to the black screen of the monitor that JJ stood in front of. Pressing a button on the remote grasped securely in her hand, JJ brought up a series of images. Each member of the team intently listened to the case that JJ was presenting to them.

Four interracial couples within the D.C. area had been murdered within seven hours of being reported missing. Forty-eight hours previous of being abducted, they received surveilance photographs of themselves in the mail.

Immediately, Emily's brown eyes were drawn to Derek's just as his were drawn to hers. Nobody seemed to notice the worried glances that passed between the two as they skimmed through the case file in front of them.

"I'm going to work on a geographical profile and narrow down the area of his hunting zone," Reid announced out loud, closing the brown file folder in front of him.

Hotch nodded in agreement before glancing at Prentiss and Morgan who sat next to each other at the round table. "Morgan, Prentiss, I want you to check out the last crime scene." The two agents nodded to each other before nodding in agreement to their boss. "Rossi," Hotch barked his next instructions. "I want you to head over to the morgue." Next, he looked to JJ, instructing her to set up a press conference. Lastly, he looked over at Garcia. "And Garcia, I want you to start looking into each of the victim's lives, see if they crossed paths. I want to know how this unsub found his victims."

Garcia nodded at his instructions. "Yes, my Liege."


	3. Tell Us What?

"We have to tell them," Derek sighed as he eased the black GMC SUV into the flow of traffic. Emily sat beside him, strapped into the passenger seat. She had been staring straight ahead at the road before them until he spoke. Leaning forward and stretching the seatbelt as if she had been pushed into the dashboard, Emily gripped the smoothness of the dashboard. As they glanced at each other, Derek could see the surprise in her eyes.

Shaking her head, trying to deny hearing the sentence that sprung from Derek's mouth, Emily's eyes grew wide like saucers. "No," she said in reply.

"Emily," he sighed.

From the day they'd first met, shaking hands in the conference room of the BAU, they'd always been honest with each other. They hardly disagreed on things either. It was as if their minds at times were one and not seperate. Yet the woman had a mind of her own and he should have known his declaration would have elicted a negative response from her.

"Don't _Emily_ me," she told him, her tone dark, almost sinister yet full of sass. Repositioning herself so that she was facing him and not the road, she kept her eyes glued to his face. They were narrowed and hard, just like they always did when she was ready to fight. "We're not telling the team, Derek."

"There's a killer targeting interracial couples in D.C!" He exclaimed, taking his eyes off the road briefly so that his eyes would come in contact with hers. "We have to tell them!"

Emily snorted sarcastically in reply as his eyes focused on the road ahead of them once again. "Yeah," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm like it was venom. "We tell the team, they're happy, we throw the unsub behind bars, and everyone lives happily ever after." Derek sighed at her comment and opened his mouth to say something, but Emily wouldn't let him speak. "Yeah right!" she exclaimed, dropping the sarcasm. "Hotch'll be pissed and I don't know about you, but I kind of like this job and don't want to have to find another!"

If his current task of driving didn't require both hands and his eyes on the road, he would have burried his face in his hands briefly to accompany his exasperated sigh. The woman was stubborn and self-righteous. Unfortunately, so was he and he refused to give in to her wishes.

Arriving at the crime scene, he easily shifted the vehicle into park and opened his door. "We're here," he announced, not bothering to look her way. "We'll talk about this later."

"Damn right we will," Emily huffed, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the vehicle.

**xXx**

Rossi studied the medical examiner's report, his brows raising in piqued curiousity at the cause of death. The black men while tortured were all killed by a single gun shot to the head, but it was how the women died that piqued Rossi's interest. Glancing upward from the written report to look at the medical examiner, he pointed to the report.

"What is this Flunitrazepam found in the women's systems?" He asked.

"You might know it as rohypnol," the medical examiner replied.

"The date rape drug?"

The medical examiner nodded her head in confirmation. A date rape drug administered to the women would explain why there were no defensive wounds. Rohypnol, if Rossi recalled correctly was colorless, odorless, and tasteless. But how could the unsub slip a little white pill to the victims without their knowing.

She must have been able to read his thoughts, because she continued. "The pill dissolves completely in liquid," she explained, "and is one of the top drugs used to 'spike' drinks."

Spiked drinks. That could definetely be how the unsub gained control over the female victims, but there were no signs of drugs in the men's systems. So, how could one unsub subdue the male victims while keeping complete control over the drunk like females?

**xXx**

The couple was taken from their home, making the abduction sight located in the middle of a cul de sac. Putting their recent quarrel out of her mind, Prentiss Looked around the neighborhood. Shaking her head, she gazed up at Morgan. The man frowned as he met her gaze, obviously thinking the same thing she was. As their eyes met, silent apologies were made and professionalism replaced all sense of personalism at the moment.

"Someboy must have seen something," Emily commented, her eyes doing one more sweep of the surrounding area.

Morgan nodded in agreement, taking the key they were given before their departure from the Federal building. Fitting it into the lock on the front door, he twisted the knob and the door flung open. Being the perfect gentleman, he allowed Emily to enter the house first.

"I think we should canvass the neighborhood," he said, making his thoughts known.

"There's 25 homes in this cul de sac," Prentiss pointed out, looking over her shoulder to stare at him. "and you want to go door to door?" Morgan shrugged in reply. Knitting her brows and scrunching her nose, Emily's lip twitched. "That's going to take a while."

Again, Morgan shrugged as he pulled out his cell phone.

**xXx**

"If you have any questions, please call the number on the bottom of your screen. Thank you."

JJ ended the press conference and stepped away from the podium and evaded the pack of reporters hounding the front of the Federal building as best she could. Answering the questions she could, but more often than not answering with, "no comment," the blonde turned her back to the story hungry reporters and joned the stern faced Aaron Hotchner who watched not too far away.

Entering the building, both agents were glad to leave the reporters outside on the steps. JJ's heeled boots clicked on the hard flooring in long strides as she attempted to keep up with Hotch's quick pace. No words were spoken between the two agents as they rode the elevator up to the sixth floor, leaving them lost in their own thoughts.

Hotch wanted to close this case as quickly as possible. Since the unsub targeted couples, the body count was double than it would be if he only killed the men or women. But four couples, meant eight bodies and he feared another couple would be discovered at any time, bringing the body count to ten. Hopefully the geographic profile and the crime scenes would help them to discover a lead so they could get ahead of the bastard before anymore lives were tragically destoryed.

Meanwhile, JJ had a completely different matter running through her mind. While right now the case took top priority over everything else, the communications liason couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on between two of her co-workers. Prentiss was like Hotch, the epitome of professionalism. Morgan was too, except when he was flirting with either Garcia or Prentiss. But the banter was always friendly and Morgan and Prentiss' behavior wasn't any different. And yet, while she wasn't a profiler, JJ had spotted the quick glance between Prentiss and Morgan during the briefing. The expressions etched on their faces resembled that of worry and concern.

As they stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor, Hotch's phone rang and he stopped to answer it while JJ stepped into the empty bullpen. Many of the agents had gone home already except for Hotch's team who were all disperesed throughout working on leads. Entering the conference room, she saw Reid hard at work, diligently, coloring a map of Washington D.C. pinned on the evidence board with a red marker. Rossi was seated at the table, going through notes in greater detail.

"He rendered the women unconcious using rohypnol," Rossi shook his head, thinking out loud.

"A date rape drug?" JJ asked, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Shrugging her shoulders, she asked, "Why not just use chloroform? Wouldn't that work better?"

Listening to the other two people in the room, Reid's marker stopped scribbling on the paper map. Turning to face his colleagues, Reid capped the marker and fidgeted with it in his hands. "Not necessarily," the young genius piped up and JJ and Rossi both turned their attention to him with interest. "Using chloroform to incapacitate someone is widely cliched due to the popularity of most crime fiction. However, the chloroform would have to be inhaled for at least five minutes to render someone unconcious. More chloroform would have to be administered then to keep them unconcious and the chin would have to be supported so that the tongue does not obstruct the airway, which happens to be a very difficult procedure to do even for an anesthesiologist." Both Rossi and JJ remained silent as they listened to Reid's babbling. His face lit up and the rate of his voice increased as he remembered something else about chloroform. "In 1865 a medical journal offered a "permanate scientific reputation" to anyone that could demonstrate "instantaneous insensibility" using chloroform. To this day, no one has-"

Rossi and JJ took their eyes off of the rambling agent and looked at each other. "Spence," JJ snapped her fingers to pull him out of his state of intense concentration.

"What about rohypnol?" Rossi asked.

Reid sighed, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with oxegyn before continuing. "Rohypnol is classified as a date rape drug although studies indicate that it was used in only 1% of reported date rapes. It's known as the "forget me" drug because it has the abilitiy due to high potency to cause anterograde amnesia. On the streets, rohypnol is known as "roofies" as it is generally a small white pill that completely dissolves in liquid. When dissolved in liquid, it is completely tasteless and odorless, making it impossible to detect except through a drug test. Once it is ingested, the drug begins to take effect in as little as 20 minutes and a dosage as small as 1 mg can last up to 12 hours. When the drug begins to take effect, the person will start to feel drowsy and start to hallucinate as their judgement, motor skills, and speech are impaired. Confusion and memory impairment is also common and within two hours the person could be completely unconcious. If combined with alcohol, it can be fatal."

Hotch stepped into the room and his gaze immediately fell upon Reid's half colored map. However, he didn't say anything to the youngest agent of the team and dropped his gaze to JJ and Rossi. "Morgan would like you to meet them at the abduction sight."

Rossi and JJ looked to each other but did not say a word as they left the room to join the other agents out in the field. With JJ and Rossi gone, Reid went back to work on his geographical profile and Hotch left the young agent alone. Instead, Hotch left the room and made his way to his technical analyst's lair.

Garcia was furiously typing away at the keyboards, lighting up the assortment of screens on her different monitors. Sighing in frustration, she pushed herself away from the desk and nearly slid the chair right into Hotch. Turning around, Garcia hastily pushed her colorful rimmed glasses up on her nose and profusely apologized.

"What do you have so far, Garcia?" Hotch asked, waving off her apologies for running into him.

"Ultimately nothing, Captain."

**xXx**

Morgan sighed as Prentiss knocked on yet another door. After walking through the crime scene, the door to door canvas was promising to be less draining when Rossi and JJ showed up to take half of it. However, the sun was sinking farther and farther into the horizon and the FBI agents were beginning to feel drowsiness sneak up on them as they continued to work. Beside him, Emily tried to stifle a yawn so as not to let Morgan know how tired she really was. Although Morgan could see right through her facade, he didn't say anything.

The door was opened to reveal a young woman, holding a sleeping toddler. She was short, barely 5'0 and dressed in dark sweatpants and low cut tank top. Her sleeping toddler was dressed in superman pajamas and the two agents couldn't help but inwardly smile at the scene.

Immediately, they flashed their badges, causing the woman to gasp. It was Morgan who spoke first to introduce them. "Agent Morgan," he introduced himself as. Next he gestured to Emily and introduced her as "Agent Prentiss."

"May we come in?" Prentiss inquired and the woman immediately stepped aside to allow them entrance into her home.

**xXx**

Morgan and Prentiss stumbled into the bullpen followed by JJ and Rossi later that night after having canvassing the neighborhood that the latest victims, Cheryl and Christopher Brown lived. While JJ and Rossi went straight to the conference room to check in with the rest of the team, Morgan and Prentiss made a detour to the small kitchenette to grab some coffee.

Stepping closer to the brunette, Morgan whispered, "That cul de sac wasn't far from -"

He was unable to say anything else because Emily interrupted him. Turning her head to look in his direction, she glared at him. The normally affable brunette woman's dark eyes narrowed and were hard like ice, causing Morgan to think of the meaning of "as silent as the grave" because he knew if looks could kill, he'd be dead several times over.

"We are not telling them," she hissed, as they stepped into the small kitchenette.

"Tell us what?"


	4. Married

_"Tell us what?"_

Penelope Garcia's normally chipper voice was laced with curiousity as she looked to the two profilers who stopped dead in their tracks upon learning that they were not alone. Derek looked to Emily and Emily looked to Derek, but the computer guru could not understand the silent conversation happening between the two. Raising her eyebrows, she took a sip of the caffeinated beverage in her hand, waiting for someone to speak.

"No," Emily seemed to mouth to her partner with a shake of her head. Her gaze was stern and unrelenting to the pleading looks from Derek, telling Garcia that whatever it was they had had this argument before.

Derek hated arguing with Emily and while they hardly disagreed, he usually went against her opinions when they did. But the same could be said for her. Negotiations were hardly ever on the table when it came to settling an argument between them. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at the brunette once more and by the expression on her face, Derek guessed that she was cursing him in every language she knew as she rolled her eyes.

"We're married."

Hearing the last sentence that came out Derek's mouth, Emily scowled, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. She was not happy.

Knowing that Emily was upset with him for letting the cat out of the bag, but relieved for finally telling someone, Derek didn't mind the fact that he'd be getting an earful from the angry brunette once they were home and away from the listening ears surrounding the Bureau.

Derek's confession seemed to come as a shock to Penelope as her jaw dropped. Glancing between the two agents, she waited for confirmation from one or the other.

Knowing that she couldn't deny the claim, Emily sighed and her fingers slipped under her blouse. Carefully, her fingers pulled out a long silver chain with a gold wedding band attached to it. "It's true," she sighed, letting the chain fall back against her skin to keep the ring hidden from wandering eyes. She watched Derek pull out his ring for a moment as well before hiding it beneath his shirt once more.

Bringing her hands up to her mouth, Garcia tried to hide her gasp, but couldn't. Slowly, her hand dropped to the pendant of her necklace as her shocked expression turned to one of joy with a grin. Engulfing Emily in a tight embrace, she giddily danced from side to side.

"I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, releasing Emily to embrace Derek. "I'm still mad that I wasn't invited though and-"

"Garcia!" Emily's tone was a little harsh as she tried to stop the bubbly blonde's rant.

"I'll be happy if you just make me the fairy godmother of your first child and-"

Morgan pulled out of Garcia's grasp and took a step back. One glance in Emily's direction told him that she was uncomfortable with the comment as she shifted her eyes and was constantly shifting her weight between her left and right foot, indicating that she wanted to get away. He understood how she felt though for he felt the same thing. In the fourteen months they've been a couple or the four months they've been married, the conversation of kids had never come up. Besides, most of the time they were too busy looking over their shoulders, nervous that the team might suspect something.

"We've only been married three months and 27 days," Emily said nervously as her voice went up an octave. She swallowed hard. Derek snaked his arm around her waist and patted her hip quickly before sneaking past her and Garcia to grab some coffee.

"I have to tell-"

Lunging forward, Emily grabbed her friend by the arm. Her eyes narrowed as she lowered her voice. "If you tell anyone, I swear to God that-" Her tone was sinister and Garcia only nodded in agreement before Emily could utter her threat.

Pulling out of Emily's hold, Garcia took her coffee and went to join the rest of the team in the conference room.

The rest of the team was settled around the table in the conference room, discussing the case when Morgan and Prentiss arrived in the conference room a short time later with their coffee. Immediately they took the two empty seats. Watching Reid hastily coloring his map, Emily raised her eyebrows.

"If I knew you wanted to color, Reid," she said, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I would have picked you up a coloring book on the way back."

Reid frowned at the dark haired agent as he capped his marker before pushing his chair back. Upon standing up, he walked back over to the evidence board with the map in tow. Hanging the map back up, he pointed to the neatly colored areas. Looking at the other agents, Reid used his capped marker as pointer to point out different locations on the map as he spoke. "The colored tabs represent the abduction sites," the young genius explained, pointing to each one. "The red area is his hunting ground and while he is very familiar with the area, he does not live there."

Derek gazed over at Emily to see if he could read her expression or body language, but found that he couldn't as she was staring straight ahead, listening to Reid's rant. He could tell she was trying to keep her emotions in check.

"The unsub is even more familiar with this blue area here and more confident that he won't get caught," Reid explained. "This is where he leaves the bodies. Finally," Reid moved down the the map to a much smaller green colored area. "Unsubs generally commit their crimes a safe distance from where they live to make it harder to track. So, this is where he lives," he explained.

Prentiss looked at the green dot on the map Reid was pointing to. "Well that only narrows it down to a couple thousand people," she commented, not bothering to hide the sass and sarcasm from her tone.

Rossi, JJ, Garcia, and Morgan snickered at Prentiss's comment, but grew serious once more as Hotch shot the amused group his signature glare. Remaining silent, the team waited for someone to speak.

As it turned out, they didn't have to wait long. Rossi brought his hand, closed in a fist, up to his mouth and coughed, clearing his throat. "While I don't know what Morgan and Sassypants came up with," he began, his eyes shifting over to Prentiss. "JJ and I found out that there were complaints of an unfamilar black van with red trim and tinted windows leading up to the day that the Browns disappeared."

Morgan and Prentiss nodded their heads in agreement with Rossi's statement, stating that they learned the same thing while canvassing the neighborhood.

"Basically we're looking for the A-Team," Prentiss snorted.

The team fell silent after Prentiss's comment and JJ leaned in close to Garcia. "What's the A-Team?" she whispered to the blonde and Reid's expression as he looked to Garcia told her that he didn't know what Prentiss was talking about either.

Hotch restarted the conversation about the case before his agents could get sidetracked again. So far they knew he stalked his victims for days before abducting them and he drove a big black van, making it easier to discreetly transport the bodies. Since he drugged his female victims with a date rape drug, he had access to it on the streets.

Hotch looked around the table and studied the faces of each of his agents. Having immediately gone straight into another case after only a few hours of wrapping up one, each agent appeared weary and worn out even with the caffeine they drank to fuel their bodies. Garcia though tired, was determined to complete the task of connecting the victims that Hotch had given her earlier and was bound to recieve a second wind after another cup of coffee. Her determinedness was etched on her face for Hotch to see clearly. JJ kept stealing glances at her wrist watch or from the clock on the wall and Hotch instantly knew that she wanted to get home to her son before he fell asleep for the night. Reid was probably on his tenth cup of coffee of the day and would slow down and crash once the caffeine completely left his system. Rossi listened intently to what was being said and Hotch knew that the word sleep would not become part of the older man's vocabulary and the team was sent to get some rest. Prentiss had her eyes glued on him as he spoke and he knew that she was on edge. Morgan seemed to be on edge as well as he looked at Prentiss and Hotch wondered if something had happened between the two agents.

Realizing that a majority of his agents would drop if they didn't rest and wanting to go home to his son as well, Hotch sighed and looked to his team. "There's nothing else we can do tonight," he stated. "Go home and get some sleep."

Sighs of relief washed over the team as they pushed their chairs back and stood up. Each member saying good night to each other as they left the room to collect their belongings and head home for the night.

"I'm going to pull an all nighter," Garcia declared to Hotch in the midst of the upheaval as the other agents shuffled from the room. "Find what I missed."


	5. Do What We Do Best

Emily yawned, pushing the key into the lock. Her vision was fuzzy and her tiredness made her unable to focus as was proven when the simple task of unlocking the door seemed impossible. Cursing under her breath, she tried again. This time her results were more to her satisfaction and she pushed open the front door of their house. Flipping the light switch to turn on the light in the foyer, she stifled another yawn as she called for her beloved pet.

"Sergio!" her voice echoed through the hall and Morgan stepped in behind her, closing the door. Dropping her belongings in the hall, she stepped into the open living room, once again calling for the cat. Her calls were greeted by the clicking of claws on the hardwood flooring in the kitchen. Clooney, Morgan's energetic lab mix bounded into the room and up to the tired agents. Stooping to pet the dog, Emily mumbled, "You better not have eaten my cat." Derek also petted the excited animal in greeting before picking up his wife's bags and pushing past her. Seeing Derek about to disappear upstairs, Emily detached her holstered weapon from her belt and held it out to him to take. "Oh, here." He took it without a word and disappeared upstairs as she wandered over to the dining room to search for her pet, Clooney following closey behind her.

She found the sleeping cat curled up on top of the books in the top shelf of the book case and she briefly wondered how the cat had managed to get up there. Smiling, she grabbed the cat from his perch and held him up to her face. "Hey Buddy," she cooed to the animal, rubbing her cheek against his soft black fur.

Still holding the cat, she wandered back to the living room and up the stairs to join Derek. She found him in their bedroom, locking their service weapons securely in the safe in the walk in closet. Cuddling the cat, Emily sat at the edge of the bed and kicked her shoes off. Sighing, she kissed the cat before setting him on the floor. Derek walked into the main part of the room and removed his own shoes as she strode across the room to her vanity and began removing her jewlery.

"I can't believe you told Garcia," she said, removing her silver wrist watch. Her tone was cold and she refused to look at him.

Derek sighed and took a seat at the edge of the bed, watching her. "Seriously, Emily?" he asked, "You're mad about that?"

Turning around so that she was facing him, Emily leaned against the vanity with her arms crossed over her chest. "You're really asking me that, Derek?" Sighing, she dropped her arms back to her sides. "We both love this job and neither one of us wants to leave," she explained calmly. "That's why we agreed we wouldn't tell the team."

Emily was a stubborn human being and once her mind was made up, she didn't change it and that's why Derek knew that she would be relentless now. Derek sighed. He wished that they didn't have to reveal their relationship to the team, but he believed it was the right thing to do if they could end up being potential victims. Standing up, he crossed the room and grabbed a framed photograph from atop his dresser. In one swift movement, he was standing in front of his wife, holding the picture out to her.

She took the photograph and turned it so that she could look at it. The picture wasn't the best, but it was one her favorites. They had their arms around each other and the bold white letters on their kevlar vests were facing the camera. JJ had snapped a photo of them after a successful end to a case in Nebraska. "What's this?" she asked, taking her eyes away from the picture so that she could look at him.

"I thought you'd recognize a picture of yourself when you saw one," he teased.

"Haha," came her sarcastic laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Why are you showing me this?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Em," he replied, pointing to the photograph. "We fit this unsub's victim type. Not only that, but according to Reid's geographic profile, we live in the middle of his hunting zone." Emily shrugged as if it were no big deal. "We could be his next victims, Emily!" Derek exclaimed, "the team has to know!"

Shaking her head, Emily handed the framed photograph back to him. He was right, of course, but she knew that telling the team was a bad idea. Derek was under the illusion that the team could protect them if they knew, but she knew better. Thinking that the team could somehow protect them was wishful thinking. Hotch would take them off the case and if they weren't assigned to a safe house outside of DC, Hotch would arrange for other agents to stand watch on their home until they caught this unsub. However to get other agents standing guard, he'd have to have permission from Strauss and if she knew, they'd be dragging their asses down to the unemployment office.

Taking the picture, Derek walked away from her and placed it back upon its resting place on his dresser. Silence fell between them once more, losing both agents in thought. Elbows resting on the dresser on either side of the frame, Derek studied the picture. The picture was a few years old, taken when their were clear romantic understones to their strong friendship, but both were too stubborn to admit it. Looking back at it now, Derek could admit it now because the way they seemed to hold onto one another tightly in the picture wasn't how he'd hold onto JJ or even Garcia to pose for a picture. He loved the woman, there was no denying that and if protecting her meant disclosing the secret that they had both agreed to keep, then it was worth it.

While at times it seemed like they were a lot a like, Emily knew that deep down they were as different as their skin tones and when it came to their opinions they were unwavering and just as unchanging as the color of their skin. She knew that she loved Derek, had loved him for a while. And while she didn't know quite when she had fallen in love with him, she was positive her feelings about him had started to change when they discovered their mutual love for Kurt Vonnegut. And maybe that's why when Derek had mildy injured during a case a few months ago they decided not to wait and just get married although they hadn't even been together a year.

"I don't know what to think," she stated. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper and she doubted that Derek could hear her.

But he did because he walked back over to her and grabbed her hand. "I love you Emily," he told her, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss. "And I just want to protect you."

Nodding, Emily told him that she understood where he was coming from. Unfortunately, she wasn't one to play the damsel in distress, needing a man to save her. She was capable of doing that all on her own. "I know Derek, but I'm not going to sit around on my ass being paranoid, waiting for a killer to strike! I'm going to live my life as I've been living it and if a killer gets close to us, we'll do what we do best together."

Derek's eyebrows raised and a smirk played across his features as his mind wandered to another activity they like to do together.

"Tag team."

"Fine," he sighed in agreement with her, knowing that he would never be able to make her changer her mind. "Just promise me, that if you get the feeling you're being watched, tell me and then we'll tell the team."

Emily rolled her eyes at his request and even though she promised she will, Derek doubted she actually would. "Okay," she promised.

Pulling her closer to him, Derek tilted his head and molded his lips to hers. "Let's never fight again," he whispered to her once the kiss ended and he rested his forehead against hers.

"Agreed," she whispered in reply before she reconnected their lips in another kiss.


	6. A Present They'd Never Forget

The gun that he saw riding high on her hip earlier told him that she was some kind of cop. That really surprised him. That black bastard's entire being just seemed to scream cop, but not her. From a distance she didn't seem like the kind of woman to tramp through mud or run in heeled boots down a busy street to catch a suspect on the run. She was always so put together and she carried herself as if she were royality.

Even now as she chased a dog around the backyard of her home, she carried herself like a real princess would.

"Clooney, give me my book back!"

"He's not gonna give it back to ya, Em."

Her husband stood on the patio with a smirk on his face, watching her chase after the dog.

She stopped and pouted, while the dog kept running, refusing to drop the object in his mouth. "You should've taught your dog some manners," she grumbled as she stomped up to her amused husband.

"Give it a rest, Princess," she cuddled into him after he said this and kissed her forehead.

"That is my first edition-"

Someone like him really didn't deserve someone as beautiful as she and one day they would not only see their sins, they would pay for their sins. Until then, he should leave them a present they'd never forget.


	7. I'm Hilarious

**"**The one morning I want to sleep in and this happens," Emily groaned, complaining about her apparent bad luck as she and Morgan joined Hotch, Rossi, and Reid at a crime scene. Their colleagues remained silent, although the smirk on Rossi's visage told them that he was biting his tongue as to not say something snarky as he looked at the watch on his wrist.

Straining her neck, Emily turned her head to study the crime scene from all directions. The crime scene happened to be a dump site and fairly fresh as it had not yet been processed. Crime scene units and other personel were trampling throughout the crime scene hard at work to process it. Pulling on the blue laytex gloves so as not to contaminate any evidence, the woman stooped down next to the deceased victims.

Morgan shifted his eyes to gaze upon the surrounding area as his partner processed the victims. This dump site was much like the one they had visited the day before. Dump sites always revealed something about the unsub and this one was no different. Where, when, and how criminals commited their crimes always revealed in part why they commited the crime. Crime scenes were also good at revealing part of the unsubs behavior.

The dump site this time was a public park located in a highly residentual area of D.C. revealing to the profilers that the unsub wanted the victims to be found and found quickly. The fact that it was barely past six in the morning told them that the perpetrator was smart as to do it at a time when the park was closed for the night and when anyone living nearby would be in bed and unlikely to see or hear anything suspicious.

How the victims were positioned or posed revealed much about their unsub. Whether the way the bodies were positioned as part of a ritual or because a sense of remorse washed over him after commiting the crime or what, always told something about the unsub. This unsub had no ritual when dumping the bodies, nor did he feel remorse as no graves were even attempted to be dug to hide them. Morgan deduced that the victims were nothing more than trash to be discarded to the unsub by the way they were dumped, haphazardly close to the entrance of the park as if they were simply pushed off the bed of a pickup truck.

"Defensive wounds on the male victim tell us he fought back," Rossi commented out loud to the group. Meanwhile, Prentiss stood to her full height beside the female victim, shaking her head.

Understanding what Emily's head shake meant, Reid piped up to say, "there's probably no defensive wounds on the female because she was probably drugged before she knew what was happening and most likely died due to an overdose."

"I still don't know how he manages to control the male victims," Rossi added. "It would be easy to control the women. If they aren't unconcious, they're in a drunk like state. The men however aren't drugged and the flight or fight instinct would kick in and since their wife is incapacitated, I doubt the flight response would kick in."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Morgan rocked on the balls of his feet. "He could have a partner," he suggested.

"But there's no evidence to suggest that," Rossi countered.

A perpetual frown on her face, Emily wandered over to the victims again and watched as they were being loaded into the body bags to be hauled over to the morgue. Seeing the defensive wounds on the male victim, got the wheels in her head turning with great speed. "Guys," she called out to them, grabbing their full attention. Walking back to them, she stood next to Morgan.

"What is it, Em?" Morgan asked, his tone laced with concern. If Rossi was reading too much into the reflection of his tone, then the seasoned profiler might know that his words and voice reflected concern to someone that was more than a colleague. Luckily for him, Rossi seemed to deep in his own thoughts to profile the younger agents.

Using her hands to accent her meaning, Emily began to talk. "Let's say hypothetically Morgan and I are a couple." Morgan listened intently to her, wondering what she was getting at if she wasn't about to spill their well kept secret to Rossi and Reid. Pointing to Rossi, the brunette added, "Rossi, you're the unsub." Next, she pointed to herself. "I'm drugged, confused, and disorientated," she said. "Rossi what would you do or say to Morgan to gain control over him?"

Understanding what Emily was getting at, Rossi nodded. Rossi grabbed her arm in a tight grip so that she couldn't release it no matter how hard she tried. But knowing what he was doing, she didn't struggle against him. Holding his left hand out like it was a gun, he pointed at Morgan before holding his finger to Emily's temple. "Do as I say, or she dies."

"Not wanting her to get hurt, I'd comply to his orders," Morgan revealed.

"But that doesn't explain the defensive wounds," Emily reminded him. "None of the other victims had them."

Shrugging, Morgan said, "He probably tried to fight back to try to escape, once he realized that the unsub was going to kill them both anyways."

Hotch had disappeared when Morgan and Prentiss had arrived on the scene to talk with the crime scene unit but was now wandering back to the other profilers. "There was nothing to I.D. the victims with," Hotch announced. The others stood there, watching him, wondering where to go from there. Sighing, each member of the team still felt as if they still were no closer to catching this unsub.

**xXx**

Morgan leaned against the wall in the conference room, tossing a baseball up in the air and effortlessly catching it again when gravity pulled it down. Meanwhile, Preniss lay on the long sofa beneath the windows, staring up at the ceiling. Her fingers rhythmically drummed against her trouser clad thigh. Both Rossi and Reid were staring at the full evidence board before them as if new evidence would magically appear if they loooked at it long enough. Hotch had left them to see how Garcia was doing with her search.

"So what do we have so far," Prentiss sighed.

"The victims are all in their thirties or early forties," Morgan said, still tossing the baseball in the air. "I'd say our guy is the same age."

"White?" Prentiss asked.

"That's what's got me," Morgan stated, not bothering to toss the baseball in the air once more as he caught it.

"Most serial killers don't cross racial lines," Reid acknowledged, turning around so that he was facing his friends. "However there are a few that do. For example, the Baton Rouge Killer, who raped and killed at least eight woman between 1998 and 2003, raped and killed both white and black females."

"Yeah," Prentiss agreed, "But Derrick Todd Lee was black and a peeping tom."

"There was Joseph Paul Franklin," Morgan said.

"The most prolific racist serial killer ever," Rossi added, not bothering to take his eyes off of the evidence board.

"Franklin wanted to started a race war throughout the country by robbing banks and shooting jews, blacks, and even interracial couples at point-blank," Reid said.

"Yeah," Prentiss agreed, "but are we looking for someone like Franklin who is obsessed with miscegenation and ultimately a white supremist, or are we looking for a self-loathing bi-racial individual who feels is killing his parents over and over again?"

"But if he felt as if he were killing his parents over and over again, wouldn't the female victims all resemble his mother?" Morgan asked. "Because looking at the pictures, the only thing they had in common was that they were married to black men."

"Not necessarily," Reid answered Morgan's question. "At first, it may have started out that way," he explained, turning back to the evidence board. "The first two female victims, Francine Bell and Judith Williams were both brunettes. So if our unsub is bi-racial he could have felt as if he was killing his parents over and over again before his rage became fixated on all interracial couples and not just his parents."

Rossi turned away from the evidence board and looked at the others. Morgan was still leaning against the wall, idly fidgeting with his baseball. Prentiss was still lying on her back, probably counting the ceiling tiles to keep herself occupied as they brainstormed ideas and patiently waited for lunch. Before more evidence could be gathered that would prove whether not the unsub was black or white, they would have to build two different profiles.

"Forget race for the moment," he said, "What else is there?"

"The dump sites suggest disorganization," Prentiss said.

"But," Morgan countered, "the way there were no evidence except what the unsub wanted us to find suggest organization."

"He'd have to be strong and confident to subdue both of his victims at once."

Rossi nodded in agreement. "A white or possibly bi-racial alpha male between 30 and 45, living in D.C. That doesn't narrow it down much."

Rolling into a sitting position so that she was facing her teammates, Prentiss exclaimed, "It could be Morgan!"

"Morgan's not a serial killer though!" Reid exclaimed.

"But our profile thus far describes Morgan to a T," Prentiss smiled, mischeviously.

With all the strength he could muster, Morgan pitched the ball to Prentiss. The woman in question caught the flying object gracefully with both hands. "You think you're funny, don't you, Princess?"

"Oh please," the woman snorted, pitching the ball back to him just as hard as he'd thrown it to her. "I'm hilarious."


	8. Family

"Knock, knock."

Gasping, Garcia swivled her chair around upon hearing the familiar voice of the profiler. "Enter and be amazed, mortal!" she exclaimed, bidding them entrance to her lair. The door squeaked open and Emily poked her head through the door to announce her presence before fully entering. Derek followed not too far behind the brunette. "Oh," the blonde tech analyst smiled. "I get to be graced by both of your presence."

"We need you to make some magic for us, Baby Girl," Derek told her with his own smile. Nudging Emily in the ribs, his smile grew into a michevious smirk. "That way, my wife here, will stop thinking I'm the unsub!"

Scrunching her face, Emily summoned all of her strength and pushed him away.

"Did I just hear what I think I just head?" Garcia asked, dramatically cuffing her hand behind her right ear. Eyes wide, eybrows raised, and glasses slipping farther down her nose all told Emily that an intense interrogation had just begun. Using her pointer finger to push her glasses back into place, Garcia glared at the brunette woman. "You accused a god who's only crime is being overly delicious of serial murder?!"

"It was a joke," Emily sighed, her frown turning into a smirk as she added, "like the time when he yelled 'bomb' at the airport."

Frowning, Morgan ignored the brunette and turned his attention to the curious blonde whose curious eyes were upon him. Shaking his head to stop Penelope's inquisitiveness and Emily's jokes, he opened his mouth to speak.

"We were kind of hoping you could give us a list."

"Oh Sugar," Garcia smiled, swiveling her chair so she was once again facing her screens. "Lists are my speciality."

"We need a list of names," Emily explained, giving her the part of the profile they were able to work out thus far.

Derek's dark eyes shifted over to the brunette standing beside him once again. It never failed to amaze him how the woman managed to go from light hearted banter to grim professionalism in seconds. But then, he could do that too and often had to after flirting with Garcia on the job.

Right now, Emily's arms were folded over her chest, her gaze hard as stone as she watched the tech tapping diligently away at the keyboard. As he watched her, his heart swelled with pride knowing that the amount she teased him only revealed a fraction of the love she felt for him. Shortly after meeting her for the first time and when he got to know her better, he learned that the more she teased someone or the mor sarcastic she was with someone told him that she was comfortable and cared for them. So, her relentless teasing on this case was her way of telling him in code that she loved him and while she was scared of what could happen to them, she had unending faith in their abilities to stop the unsub from harming anymore couples.

If they weren't at Quantico and trying to keep their relationship a secret, he would have wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her forehead. Unfortunately, they were. Nobody would think twice about it if he hugged Garcia and kissed her forehead. That was how their relationship was. He'd be interrogated like a criminal trying to deny his crimes if he did that to Emily though. Before they had taken a leap of faith and acted on their feelings, touching was not a big part of their friendship and partnership. Normally, the only touching they did was place a comforting hand on each other's shoulder, or sometimes they would hug. Their connection had always been more emotional than physical anyways.

"You're going to have to give me more than that," Garcia said, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Uh," Emiily thought, wracking her brain for more pieces of the puzzle as she thought about the facts of the case. "Narrow it down to a list of white or bi-racial men who are currently unemployed or only working part time jobs with flexible hours."

Glancing at Emily, Morgan smiled, silently congratulating her on a job well done, wondering how none of them had thought of it earlier. Their unsub had sent photographs to his victimbs before he abducted them, which indicated he spent quite a bit of time stalking them. "Stalking takes up a lot of time," he commented.

"I didn't need to know that," Garcia commented in a disgusted tone, slightly shaking her head. Tapping away at her keys, she did as Emily asked her to do. "In this economy, it's still too long of a list," she said.

"See if any of them drive a black van," Morgan replied.

Biting her lip, Garcia continued typing. "Cross checking with DMV records now...I'll let you know when I have something."

"Thanks Mama."

"You're the best."

**xXx **

"Why do we always get Chinese?" Reid complained over their lunch break.

"At least it's not pizza," Emily replied, taking a bite of the chow mein.

"I'd rather have pizza," Reid responded, accidentally tossing his noodles onto the floor. The others chuckled, amused at his inability to use the chop sticks.

"I'm sick of pizza."

"How can you be sick of pizza?" Reid asked, frowning at his chopsticks. "We never get pizza."

Chuckling, Derek glanced over at the brunette seated on his left. "It's Prentiss," he commented, "She probably only knows how to cook a frozen pizza and Hamburger Helper." Jabbing her in the side, he winked at her. "So, uh, how many take out menus do you have taped to your fridge, Princess?"

Snorting, Emily replied, "Not as many as you."

Unable to think of a witty come back, Derek couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He should have known better than to tease her like that. Emily Prentiss knew how to take his teasing in stride and to dish it right back to him in heaving amounts.

Hotch looked around the table at each of his agents, admired at their dedication to the job, no matter how tired they were or how little they had to go on when it came to tracking an unsub. They had just been handed a case just hours after finishing another without much time to rest.

Not to mention, their job was harder when they didn't recieve help from the locals. Crime in the D.C area had spiked recently and so the task force there was grateful to contact the BAU and hand the case over to them, puting him in charge. He called the shots this time instead of advising a disgruntled detective who didn't always like to listen to his expertise.

Pushing his current thoughts out of his head, Hotch continued watching each member of his team in detail as they laughed, joked, and interacted with each other. His team was like a family and they drew their strength from each other. He could only hope that they caught a break in the case before their strength resources were depleted and they became burned out with nothing more to give.

"Need a bib there, Reid?" Morgan teased the younger profiler, pulling Hotch away from the thoughts that ran through his mind. Reid, still attempting to use the chopsticks had dropped some food into his lap. Frowning, Reid pouted as he looked down at his tan slacks.

"Here," JJ said, tying the hair tie that was around her wrist to the end of the chopsticks, like she did everytime they ordered Chinese.

Smiling, Hotch couldn't help but let his mind wander back to its previous thoughts. His team was a family. They teased each other, sometimes a little too much, but they looked out for and cared for each other whenever they needed it. Whether the situation was dire and serious like needing emergency back up in the field or lighthearted about one's amusing inabilities to use chopsticks, they always had each other's back. And when all was said and done, there was no other family that he would rather be apart of.


	9. More Information

The bright yellow pumps on Garcia's feet click-clacked as she hastily speed walked across the tiled floor of the bullpen and up to the catwalk overlooking the bustling bullpen. Derek and Emily picked their heads up from their computer screens and watched as the tech securely held a laptop in one arm as she used the other to knock on the closed door of Aaron Hotchner's office. Drumming her fingers against her skirt, she patiently waited to be admitted entrance.

"Come in," a stern voice called out from inside the office.

Penelope didn't have to be told twice to enter. Immediately upon hearing the greeting, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. This mission she was on was important and could very well change the team's luck in closing this case. Upon entering the tech saw her boss sitting behind his desk, hunched over a case file, while diligently tapping away at the computer's keyboard in front of him. His suit and tie, as always, looked impeccable.

"Uh Sir," she said quietly, announcing her presence in the room. Hotch looked up from the papers and the computer screen in front of him, but did not say anything in greeting. "I might have missed the obvious," she told him timidly. Her tone was scared as if she were unsure of herself; far from the Penelope Garcia that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

Groaning, Emily glanced over in Derek's direction and met his dark eyes when she saw Garcia disappear inside Hotch's office. "There goes my solitaire break," she commented, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Damn," she muttered under her breath. "I was winning too."

Chuckling in amusement, Derek grinned. "Solitaire?" He asked, "Really, Princess?"

Grinning at him, she shot back sarcastically, "Oh, like you were working real hard over there, Morgan."

Shrugging, Derek replied, "Maybe I was Prentiss."

"You were on Facebook."

Chuckling, Derek shook his head, an amused smile gracing his lips. A smart comeback was at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be released. Before he could speak however, the door of Hotch's office opened. Garcia stepped outside and a beeline for the conference room. Hotch followed her out of the office but walked up to the railing of the catwalk and peered out over the bullpen. His stern gaze immediately fell upon Morgan and Prentiss.

"I need everybody in the conference room now," he explained before walking the short distance to Rossi's office. He knocked once, before entering the office.

Groaning, Derek pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up. Wandering the short distance to his wife's identical desk, he made a large, sweeping gesture with his arms towards the conference room. "After you, Darling," he instructed with his lips turned up in a small smirk.

Standing next to Derek, Emily patted his cheek with her own smirk across her lips. "You only want me to go first so you can stare at my ass."

Rolling his eyes, Morgan grabbed her arm and pulled her along. "Get your mind out of the gutter and come on."

Inside the conference room, Garcia, JJ, and Reid were already comfortably seated at the round table. Dropping Emily's arm, Derek took the empty seat next to Garcia, while Emily took the empty seat next to JJ, across the table from Derek. Garcia hastily typed away at the keyboard of the laptop placed in front of her as they all silently waited for Hotch and Rossi to join them. It wasn't long before the oldest members of the team joined them. Finally, once they were seated, Garcia picked her head up and peered over the top of the laptop, so that only her eyes were showing, the rest of her face still hidden from view by the screen of the laptop. Clearing her throat, her eyes wandered to each one of them.

"Don't hate me," she started out, "but I found out what connects all of the victims," she stated.

A gasp emanated from Reid upon hearing the confession. He, like the rest of them was surprised and grateful that they would have something else to go on to close this case. Garcia's sentence seemed to rejuvenate the team's waning hope. JJ looked up briefly from the notes she was taking to look at the tech. Across the table, Derek's and Emily's eyes locked and while the others didn't know what was said, they knew something had silently been said between them. Hotch only nodded, remaining perfectly still while Rossi raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for Garcia to continue.

"I still haven't been able to identify the last victims," Garcia explained to the team to start off. "But, I've found out what connects the other victims," she said. "By going through their credit information, I was able to find that three of the four couples had used a credit card to pay for a weekend long couples retreat. Now, the Browns' didn't have any credit cards, so I had to do a little more digging. By accessing the retreats registry, I found that they had also attended the retreat." Tapping the table excitedly, Garcia exclaimed, "Bam and your welcome!"

"What is that couples retreat?" Reid asked, furrowing his brows, confused.

Garcia glued her eyes to the screen, tapping at few more keys on the keyboard before speaking. "Well," she drawled. "The website describes it as a chance for couples to get away from the hustle and bustle of life as they enjoy a weekend in paradise. It's located at Camp Friendship in Palmyra, Virginia." Her voice faded out as she continued to look up information about it. "While they have scheduled activities for the couples, the rest of the time, they can do whatever they want as long as they do it together." Shaking her head with an amused gleam in her blue eyes, she looked across the table to Emily. "I don't even live with Kevin, and sometimes I feel like I see way too much of him. I couldn't imagine being married to someone that has the same job as me."

Derek did his best to hide his mirth as he locked eyes with Emily once more. She smiled back at him. Glancing over at Rossi now, Derek smiled. "Now if they had that thirty years ago," he commented jovially. "You might actually still be married."

"Funny, Wise Guy," Rossi retorted to Derek who shrugged. Growing serious once again, he looked around the table at each of the profilers. "So, if all the couple had attended this retreat, then the unsub had to have met them at that retreat."

"Garcia," Hotch ordered, "Crosscheck all guests and employees of that retreat with the profile."

Smiling, Garcia chuckled. "Oh Captain," she purred. "I am way ahead of you."

"Sometimes," Emily smiled at Garcia, "you amaze me."

"Oh," Garcia replied, with a heartfelt smile as she placed her hand over her heart, "You dazzle me too, Sweet pea."

Still going through the registrar for the couple retreat, Garcia hummed as she waited for more information. "Oh," she gasped after a moment of pure silence. "That's-"

"What is it?" Hotch asked.

Shaking her head, she replied, "Nothing. It's nothing."

**xXx**

"We have to tell them," Derek hissed to Emily as he watched her refill her coffee cup. Leaning against the countertop of the small kitchenette that served as the break area, he crossed his arms over his chest. Narrowing his eyes, Derek uneasily shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for Emily's response.

Rapidly stirring cream and Splenda into the dark liquid, Emily glared at him. "We already talked about this," she hissed back to him in reply. "We are not telling them."

Huffing, Derek uncrossed his arms and pushed his body away from the counter. Turning so that he was directly facing her, he frowned. "I don't care if we've talked about this," he said stubbornly, stepping closer to her.

His face was millimeters away from hers, an intimidating closeness, but still Emily did not flinch. The woman was strong and stubborn. She never backed away from a challenge. And that's exactly what this was too, a challenge of sorts. Using her brown eyes as if they were a portal to see into her soul, Morgan did not drop the eye contact. Emily jutted her bottom lip out a ways and her eyes narrowed as she placed her coffee mug back down on the counter.

Sighing, Derek turned away from her by spinning on his heel. Rubbing his hands over his face, Derek started to walk away. "I don't want to fight with you, Emily," he declared, a hint of exasperation evident in his voice.

"God damn it," Emily muttered out loud when he walked away. Over the years she and Derek had always had a strong friendship and partnership. Because they thought so much alike, there relationship was so solid. Fighting hardly ever occurred between them unless it was the friendly banter that only best friends did so often, and so any arguments they find themselves in were emotionally intense rollercoasters for them. As good at compartmentalizing and as strong as she was, Emily couldn't help but break down when it came to fighting with Derek and showing how vulnerable and upset it made her almost always occurred.

"You okay, Kiddo?"

A familiar voice interrupted Emily from her thoughts. Startled, she spun around and found herself face to face with none other than David Rossi. Forcing a smile, she nodded her head. "Oh yeah," she assured him easily as if nothing were bothering her at the moment. Her eyes on him, Emily watched his brows raise in question as if he didn't quite believe the words that came out of her mouth at the moment. "What?" she asked him, pretending not to know what he was silently telling her with his gaze. Again, Rossi raised his brows. Shaking her head, Emily sighed. "Oh, that was nothing, just two different opinions about the case." Grabbing her coffee, she made a beeline for her desk. Pretending to have work to do was the best way she knew to avoid the situation at hand that she wasn't ready to discuss.

**xXx**

"Speak Stud Muffin," Garcia ordered him, crossing her legs as she looked up at him, waiting for him to answer her questions. Derek stood before her in her office, looking worse for wear. Looking down at the ground, Morgan remained silent, his previous encounter with Emily weighing heavily on his mind. "What were you and my raven haired beauty doing at that couple retreat?" Sighing, Derek buried his head in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his hands back down to his sides and wiped his sweating palms on his black jeans. "Derek?" Garcia gasped in terror, her eyes were frightened. "You and Em-"Her voice cracked as she became more emotional, seeking answers for her questions. "Is he targeting you?"

"We don't know," Derek sighed, answering her truthfully.

"But you-Why were you-"

The poor tech tended to become emotional when it came to her friends and family. Derek knew this and so it was no surprise to him when sobs wracked her body, tears flooded her eyes, and her voice cracked, finding herself unable to finish her sentences as she became overly emotional. And yet while she couldn't finish her sentences, Derek seemed to know exactly everything that she was trying to say. She was trying to ask him why he and Emily were at that retreat. She was upset that her best friends could possibly in danger and were being stubborn for not telling the ones that could make sure nothing happened to them about their secret relationship.

Sighing, Derek raised his eyes so he was looking at her and not the floor. "Emily is friends with the director of the retreat and knows him well," he explained. "And she was asked to teach a couple self-defense classes throughout the weekend." Garcia nodded her head, following his explanation, all the while silently asking him with her facial expressions how he came to be there as well. "And since I teach hand to hand combat here at Quantico, she asked if I would help her out."

"Oh," Garcia replied, nodding because she accepted his answer. Her eyes were sad and pleading as she continued to look at him. "You have to tell the others," she stated. "They can protect you."

"I want to," Derek replied, shaking his head. "But Emily doesn't want to."

"Oh who cares what Emily thinks?!" Penelope exclaimed just then with a dramatic arm flourish, surprising Derek and causing him to take a few steps back. "If you don't tell, I will!" She said forcefully, standing to her full height, taking giant steps forward so she was directly in front of Derek, jabbing her pointer finger in his chest, just to emphasize his point. "I don't want to have to go to your funeral!"

"And you won't," he assured her calmly, placing his comforting large hands on her shoulders. "But if you tell and Emily finds out, you won't have to go to my funeral, because I'd be going to yours."

Nuzzling into his embrace, Penelope smiled. Because she didn't want to betray Emily's trust, she agreed not to tell the others. "Okay," she nodded in agreement. Squeezing his broad and muscular body as best as she could, Garcia whispered against his chest, ordering him to "take care of her."

"Always," Derek replied in a whisper, before kissing her hairline.

Their hug was cut short by beeping noise, telling Garcia that she had a new notification. Pulling away from Derek, she wandered back to her computer system and sat back down. Derek followed her and stood behind her, leaning forward so that he could see what she was doing. "The last couple has been identified through dental records," she explained.

"Yeah?" Derek asked her, a little confused. Dental records were used a lot to identify victims. "And?"

"Harry and Gina Samuel," Garcia said, reading Derek their names and information. "Were from Charleston, West Virginia."


	10. Office Relationships

"Is he purposefully crossing state lines," Hotch's voice asked contemplatively to his team lazily gathered in the conference room later that night. "Or…." Letting his voice trail off into nothing, Hotch glanced around the room at each one of the tired agents. JJ had her head resting on her hand, trying to keep her eyes open. Emily had already succumbed to the tiredness that washed over them and was asleep with her head on the table. Reid, although sipping on a mug of coffee was yawning every few minutes. Garcia eyes were slowly fluttering closed as she drifted into slumber, but were opened wide every few seconds as she jerked herself awake, fighting sleep. Rossi's dipped lower onto his chest, reminding Hotch of how little sleep he'd actually gotten in the past week, working diligently on closing cases and keeping up on the paperwork as best he could. Knowing the new details of the case could easily wait until morning; Hotch closed his file and said:

"Go home. We'll look at this in the morning."

The rest of the team filed out of the room single file, except for a sleeping Prentiss. Derek watched the others disperse to their respective offices or desk in the bullpen to gather their belongings and leave for the night. Most of the lights in the bullpen were already off, with all agents except for Hotch's team had already left and the nightly cleaning crew had already finished their job for the night. Staying behind in the conference room, he gently shook his wife awake.

"Huh?" She moaned, barely opening her eyes.

"Go home, Emily," Derek ordered her, gently rubbing circles into her back.

Yawning, Emily shook her head, trying to wake herself up more. "What about you?" she asked him.

Shaking his head, Derek told her that he wasn't going home with her that night. "Take the car," he told her. "I'm going to head down to the gym." Emily nodded, her brain registering his words. Kissing her lightly on the forehead, he added, "I'll catch a cab home later."

The couple left the conference room after that in complete silence as they made their way down to the bullpen to grab their belongings and leave the BAU for what was left of the night. Few words were said as they exited the glass doors and wandered to the elevator bank. The rest seemed to have already left for the night. Reaching the ground level, Derek and Emily lightly kissed in parting before going their separate ways; she to a waiting vehicle in the car park and he to the gym.

Emily didn't blame Derek for not wanting to come home right away and sleep. He was on edge. This case had them both on edge. It didn't help that this case had them disagreeing and arguing with each other constantly. Derek needed to work off some of his steam. Emily understood that. While she knew that he loved her more than anything, he needed some space to himself at the moment. And although they were both worried about each other right now, barely wanting the other out of their sight, they respected the boundaries they so desperately needed right now. Derek would be home as soon as he was done bench pressing 250 at the gym.

Even traffic in the middle of the night in D.C. was busy. Emily was grateful that it wasn't as busy as it usually was; the trek home taking less time than it normally would. Parking the car in the driveway, instead of driving into the garage, Emily exited the vehicle and made sure to lock the doors using the key fob. Unlocking the front door and disarming the security features Derek had installed upon moving in, Emily dropped her bags in the front hall. Immediately Clooney and Sergio scrambled up to her in greeting. The black cat rubbed against her legs affectionately while Clooney nudged her hand with his nose, wanting to be petted. Patting the dog on the head, Emily trudged like a zombie to the sofa in the living room. Flopping face first onto the comfortably plush sofa, Emily didn't even bother kicking off her shoes before she allowed herself once again to enter the world of dreamland.

**xXx**

Keeping his breathing even as he was taught to do while doing any form of physical activity as a child, Derek Morgan doubled up is fists, keeping them in front of his face as if he were in the boxing ring, facing an opponent. With his feet shoulder width apart, he did a quick one two, punching the air, judging the distance to the bag. Hopping two steps forward, Derek once again punched the air. Feeling that he was ready, he sent his fist flying at the bag, pouring all of his strength, frustration, and anger into his punches.

He was frustrated with Emily. All he ever wanted to do was protect the woman he loved more than life itself and she was being a pigheaded fool. He was angry that all he and Emily ever seemed to do now was fight. Their relationship had always been so solid. Now, he wasn't so sure. He was frustrated with this case and how little they had to go one. While new and more helpful information slowly came their way, ultimately they were miles away from catching the son of a bitch. He hated racism. Just because someone had darker skin than someone else didn't mean that they were any less of a person. He was proud to be biracial. In a way, it defined him as a person just like his career defined him. His career told others that he believed in justice and had a strong moral compass. When it came to right and wrong, he liked to believe that there was no gray area. The color of his skin told others that he was the product of an interracial couple. Anyone who ever had a deep and personal conversation with him would know that he was proud of his heritage and hated racism with such a passion. Because of that hate, there was a burning fire deep inside him during any case that involved racism. Now was no exception. He believed that there was only one race and that was the human race. Unfortunately not everyone saw it the same way he did. He hated this unsub whoever he was, targeting the interracial couples of D.C. Why should it matter if a white woman chose to marry a black man or a black woman choosing to marry a white man? Why should it? Who one falls in love with and chooses to marry should not matter to anyone but the person making the decision. Emily once told "Crazy Jane", _"You don't choose who you fall in love with." _If that is true, why did some heinous individuals decide to go after couples, biracial or not? Some cases caused him to hate his job, making him question why he just doesn't quit his job. This was one of those cases.

Breathes were difficult and labored when he stepped away from the punching bag. Leaning over, hands resting on his knees, Derek took slow, deep breaths. Perspiration dotted his forehead, but Derek wasn't sure if the drops trickling down his cheeks were beads of sweat or the result of salty tears flooding his eyes. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears fogging his vision, Derek took one more deep breath and continued on with his workout.

**xXx**

"Shit," an all too familiar voice sounded in the lobby of the Federal Building. Wanting to find the owner of the abrasive voice, Derek Morgan turned around to see his wife walking through the front doors, balancing two travel mugs of coffee in her hand. Brown steaming liquid tipped from one of the mugs, causing the mainly affable woman to curse like a sailor. Although she would have only gotten a couple hours of sleep, she looked well rested and ready to face the day, Derek mused, looking down at his own appearance. He was still dressed in his shorts and wife beater from his work out session the night before with his go back slung over his left shoulder. They had spent the night apart, giving them both room to think and process what was happening in their relationship.

"Hey," he called out to her in greeting, waiting for her.

Hearing Derek's voice, Emily looked around for the man. When she saw him, she smiled. "Hey," she replied, walking up to him. Kissing him briefly on the cheek, she handed him one of the travel mugs.

Derek thanked her for the morning coffee and the couple walked side by side in silence to the elevators. Sipping on her coffee, Emily patiently waited for Derek to press the button and call the elevator to their floor. A few seconds passed before the elevator doors dinged and opened. Derek allowed Emily to enter the elevator first and watched her stand off to the side, leaning against the handrail. Entering the elevator, Derek pressed the button for the sixth floor before moving to stand next to the woman.

"You didn't come home last night," she commented. Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Normally, they tried to avoid this kind of talk outside of the Bureau except when they were in private and away from the listening ears of others. But being the only two patronizing the elevator, Emily found it a good time to talk to Derek. Her tone was not accusing, but the man in question sighed just the same, turning his head to look at her. She stared straight ahead, never looking his way.

"I'm sorry Emily," he apologized although technically he hadn't of done anything wrong. "I just needed to think about all this and the gym was the best place to do it."

He didn't need to apologize to her. She wasn't mad that he hadn't of come home. She understood why he had stayed up working out. Sometimes, they both needed their space and last night was one of those times. Picking her head up, she glanced sideways at him. "I'm not mad," she assured him, her voice quiet. Turning her body sideways so that she was facing him, she placed her hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek. "I was just worried when I realized you hadn't of come home."

Face to face with Emily, Derek's dark eyes met hers. Normally they didn't worry about each other if one didn't come home right away. Upon keeping their secret, they never arrived to work together and hardly ever left together either. Because of the deep abiding trust they had in each other, neither one of them worried about one cheating or anything else. They knew they could take care of themselves in most situations. However, with an unsub that might or might not be coming after them, Derek and Emily found themselves worried about the other all the time. Living without the other was something both Derek and Emily were positive they could not do.

Since they were alone in the elevator, Derek softly kissed Emily's lips. His way of telling her that he was right there and wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. "I just want to protect you," he admitted, his strong hands cupping her face. She nodded in response, knowing his reasons for wanting to disclose their secret to the team.

"We don't have the same name," Emily reminded him. She had not taken on the Morgan name like he had originally wanted her to when they were married; having argued it would be easier if she kept the Prentiss name to keep their secret from the team. "Besides we didn't introduce ourselves as a couple." She had a point, Derek mused. In the self-defense classes they had taught at the couple retreat, they had introduced themselves as SSA Emily Prentiss and SSA Derek Morgan. There was no mention of them being married to each other or even working so closely together within the FBI. "There's nothing to worry about." She kissed him again.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore," Derek whispered against her lips. "I love you, Emily," he breathed before passionately kissing her.

"I love you too," she replied once the kiss had ended. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Pulling away from each other Emily followed Derek out of the elevator. She made her way to the bullpen while he wandered to the bathroom to change into his work clothes.

**xXx**

That morning the whole team gathered in the conference room to discuss the case. When Morgan had changed his clothes and entered the conference room, the others were already gathered and waiting on him. Without interrupting, he slid into the empty seat next to Reid.

"Somebody looks a little tired," Garcia commented on his features.

"What's her name?" Rossi asked him with a smirk upon his face.

"Gross," Emily commented.

Watching Emily's facial expressions in reaction to Rossi's snarky comments about Derek's dating behavior; the wheels in Reid's head began to turn. "Most women don't care about a man's dating habits unless they are physically attracted to said man," the genius explained to Emily with a knowing smile upon his visage.

Feigning disgust at Reid's comment, Emily pretended to gag, sticking her finger in her mouth.

Before anymore demeaning comments could be made, Hotch's infamous _let's get to work _signature glare flashed around the table causing each agent to hold back any snarky comments and focus on the case at hand.

"He could be crossing state lines to avoid detection," Emily piped up, immediately switching her focus from picking on Derek to working the case. Glancing across the table, she met Derek's eye.

"In which case there might be similar unsolved homicides in other states," Derek added.

"Were they abducted from their home though?" Rossi asked, tapping his pen against the file. "Where they lived might have nothing to do with the case if they were staying in the D.C. area and the unsub knew."

Garcia nodded, understanding what the profilers were saying, tapping away at her computer keyboard.

Hotch began to bark out orders to his team, telling JJ that he wanted the profile of this man across the country on the 10:00 news and Rossi and Reid to manage the tip line. Glancing in Emily's direction, Hotch said with no change of emotion evident in his tone, "And if Prentiss can tolerate to be in the same room as Morgan without gagging I want the two of them to narrow down the list of suspects Garcia's come up with."

"Was that a joke?" JJ asked, surprised.

"Oh, so you aren't a complete stick in the mud," Rossi commented, earning giggles from the others.

While it was a known fact that their fearless leader had a sense of humor that didn't surface very often, they all liked to give him a hard time about it. Hotch ignored their comments as he told them to get to work. Not another word was said as they dispersed to do his bidding.

**xXx**

Rossi watched the young genius fiddling with a Rubik's Cube as they managed the tip line. Waiting around for something to happen was the worst part of the job. And Rossi hated waiting around. He preferred to be out doing something instead of sitting around. Ex-wife number three always said that he didn't know how to relax without some scotch. The truth was he did like his scotch and he could relax without it. He just hated feeling invalid when he knew he could be doing something. That's why he hated retirement.

At least his young companion was keeping himself amused as he timed himself to see how long it would take him to solve the puzzle in his hand. Sticking his tongue out in concentration, Reid twisted one part after another, diligently working hard to solve the puzzle. He seemed to be lost in his own world as he worked, forgetting completely of Rossi's presence. Within a minute, Reid had the cube solved and placed it down on his desk.

"You really think they're attracted to each other?" Rossi asked out of the blue.

"Who?"

"Morgan and Prentiss."

Reid shrugged, thinking of how to answer the older man's question. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged his slim shoulders. "I think they've been attracted to each other since Emily first joined the team," Reid commented. "In fact, statistics show that dating relationships typically last longer and are more meaningful when the people involved were just friends first." He continued rattling off statistics on office relationships. "About 1in 5 co-workers will at some point date." Rossi nodded his head, understanding what Reid was telling him. "And 4 out 10 office relationships result in marriage."

None of that really answered his question, Rossi mused, but there really was no stopping Reid when he started rambling off statistics. Even when he was stopped, he always managed to finish telling them sometime later. Rolling his eyes, the proud Italian remarked, "What you actually think they'll get married?"

"No," Reid said, shaking his head. "I'm just saying it's a possibility."


	11. Time To Meet Their Maker

Greg Weber hummed the latest Luke Bryan song to himself as he stepped out onto the front porch of his D.C. Suburban home and opened the mailbox. Grabbing the stack of envelopes, he mindlessly began thumbing through them. Mostly bills. Running his hand along the bottom of the black box, Greg checked it once more to ensure that he didn't miss anything. His fingers brushed against another envelope. This one was bigger in size and folded. Pulling it out, Greg looked at the unmarked big, yellow envelope addressed to both him and his wife Tyneshia. Not thinking much of it, Greg shrugged his shoulders and went back inside and made his way to the kitchen. Dropping the mail onto the island, Greg glanced at the clock on the stove. In an hour, he'd have to go pick up his wife from work. It really sucked having only one vehicle while his wife's Chevy Malibu was in the shop. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Greg slid his fingernail under the seal of the envelope and loosened it. Opening the yellow envelope, Greg pulled out a stack of glossy black and white pictures. Thumbing through them, he realized that they were all of him and Tyneshia.

At the park with their two young sons Emmett and Marty.

In the backyard.

Picking Marty up from soccer practice.

Picking Emmett up from kindergarten.

Picking Tyneshia up from work.

The last picture had to be recent. Tyneshia had only been without her car for three days.

Remembering seeing a press conference given by the FBI all over the news a few days ago, Greg reached for the telephone resting on its cradle next to the coffee pot. He wasn't sure why he had felt so compelled to write down the number for the FBI's tip line, but he did. Grabbing the scrap piece of paper where he had hastily scribbled the phone number down, Greg quickly dialed the phone number.

**xXx**

Emily sighed, tossing the file in her hand aside. Glancing across the table at Derek, she shook her head no, silently telling him that she hadn't of found anything yet. Derek sighed as well. They've been holed up in Garcia's lair for about five hours now and they were no closer to identifying the unsub. Picking up another file, Emily quickly flipped through it. Again, she tossed it to the side. They were still miles away from identifying the unsub. No one had even mildly fit the profile yet.

"We've got to narrow it down some more," the brunette commented to her partner. "Otherwise we'll be here all night."

Derek glanced up from the file he was looking at and shot an amused glance in his wife's direction, deciding to tease her about the comment she'd just made. Smirking, he asked, "What? You got a hot date tonight or something?" He couldn't resist teasing her although he knew that he would be the only hot date she had even if they didn't have anything planned for the evening.

"MmHm," Emily purred, smiling.

"With who?"

He sounded so jealous, Emily mused. As if he had anything to worry about. "Actually I have two hot dates tonight," she replied with a smile.

"Huh?" What was this woman getting at?

Smiling, Emily replied to his questions with an all too familiar twinkle in her eye. "I'm going to have a deliciously, delectable threesome with my good friends Ben and Jerry in the hot tub tonight."

Laughing, Derek bowed his head. He should have known that's what she was getting at. Emily Prentiss was always teasing him about her hot dates with the hot tub. Her plan sounded absolutely amazing to him at the moment. Relaxing in the hot tub with ice cream was exactly what they needed to relieve the stress they felt.

Wiggling his eyebrows, Derek decided to play along and asked, "You wanna turn that into a foursome?"

"You're so not invited," Emily replied with an amused grin on her face as she shook her head. At her statement, Derek lightly tapped his left cheek with his hand and turned his head to the right, imitating being slapped in the face.

The couple grinned at each other before they decided to get back to work, grateful that Garcia had left her lair to grab some tea. Otherwise, they wouldn't be getting any work done with Garcia commenting on how cute they were.

Tossing the file he was looking at into the reject pile, Derek nodded his head as he thought about the case. "Alright," he said becoming serious, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at her. "What do we have so far?"

"Well," Emily slowly drawled, recalling from memory the profile the team had come up with earlier. One by one, she began listing on her fingers, the main points of the profile. Lastly, she finished her lecture by stating the unsub was a staff member or a guest at the couple retreat they were a part of. When they had found that bit of information, both Derek and Emily thought that it would have been easy to find the unsub. However, they were sorely mistaken. The retreat served one hundred couples at a time and the employee list was almost as long.

"How are we going to narrow it down anymore, Em?" Derek asked, accompanied by a heavy, exasperated sigh. This was the part of the job both of them hated. Sitting a desk or a table following a paper trail was not what either of them had envisioned when they had started working in the BAU. "We've already narrowed it down to all the men with criminal records that were at that retreat."

There were approximately eighty- eight names on that list with fifty male guests and thirty-eight male employees.

Skimming through the long list of names, Emily looked up at Derek and commented, "You know Morgan, you're on this list." Wanting to know what she was talking about, Derek reached over the table and snatched the paper from her grasp to take a look for himself. Emily was right. His name was on the list. "So that still makes you a suspect." She grinned and stood up as well.

Smiling back at her, he leaned over the table so that his face was mere inches from hers. "That was expunged, Miss Smarty-pants."

"I know," Emily replied smugly.

Wanted to wipe the smug grin off of his wife's face, Derek closed the gap between them and kissed her smiling lips.

"Oh! You guys are absolutely adorable!"

Surprised, Derek and Emily quickly sprang apart from each other so they were back in their seats at opposite ends of the table. Grabbing the nearest files, they acted as if they had been working all along and not having an intimate moment between them.

"Oh come on!" Garcia whined in complaint as she shuffled past them and to her vast array of screens. Settling her mug of tea on a coaster, Garcia plopped into her rolling chair and spun around so that she was facing the profilers. "You guys are adorable!" she exclaimed happily. Her eyes lighting up and a grin on her face told Derek and Emily that whatever thought had just crossed her mind, she liked it. "I bet your kids would be adorable too!" Spinning back around so that she was facing her screens, Garcia eagerly began tapping away at the keyboard.

Silence then convened between the three friends as they continued with their work. However, the silence didn't last too long with Garcia in the room. She squealed in delight at something on one of her screens, but Morgan and Prentiss both ignored her as they were too focused on their own work.

"Derek!" Emily exclaimed, grabbing the man's attention a few minutes later.

"What is it, Em?"

Taking a deep breath, Emily rattled off known facts as if she were Reid. "When we were canvassing the neighborhood, we discovered that the unsub drove a black van with red trim."

"Yeah," Derek replied in agreement. "But Garcia cross-checked DMV records with each name on the suspect list and not one of them drives a black van." He shook his head and added, "In case you forgot, Prentiss, we discarded that lead."

"I know," Prentiss nodded in reply. "But I was thinking about the profile again."

"And?"

"We said the unsub is probably unemployed or is employed part-time because of the amount of time he spends stalking his victims." Derek nodded in agreement, waiting for her to continue. "What if we're wrong?"

"There's no way he could be employed and still have time to stalk his victims. You know that."

"Yeah," Prentiss agreed with a nod of her head. "But what if he's self-employed?" Pausing, she looked at Derek and could tell by his expression that he was indeed thinking about what she had just said. "It makes sense," she added. "Self-employed individuals can make their own hours and-"

Derek interrupted her Reid like rant. Nodding his head, he fully agreed with Emily. "So if he's self-employed-"

Emily interrupted him. "He could have a company car. Company cars would be registered under the company and not the individual." Derek and Emily looked at each other and smiled, a whole conversation being spoken between them without any words being spoken. Their expressions spoke volumes to each other.

"Garcia, see if anyone at the retreat owns their own business," Morgan instructed. Without looking at the profilers, the technical analyst nodded and began narrowing the search.

"37."

"How many of those have company cars?" Emily asked and Garcia tapped away at her keyboard some more.

"14."

Grinning, Emily glanced at Derek before looking at Garcia. "You're the best, PG!"

**xXx**

This was the worst part of the job, Rossi mused as he and Reid were still sitting around, managing the tip line. Thus far, they had received one call on the line-from a paranoid 78 year old woman who saw the press conference on the news and was now afraid to open a letter she received from her granddaughter. According to her, her granddaughter had been in in Washington D.C. for a school trip and sent pictures from her trip to her. The old woman lived in Upper Michigan.

Spending an entire day with Reid was draining and Rossi had started ignoring Reid's droning voice some time ago as the genius startled rattling off game statistics of the NFL for the past five years of every team in the league. He'd only wanted to know the final score of Sunday's game since he'd bet against Morgan.

The younger profiler had been adamant that the Chicago Bears would beat the Washington Redskins.

Since both were unable to catch the game due to their crazy work schedule; Rossi just wanted a quick recap of the game to see if he would be giving or receiving fifty dollars.

"Finally,-"

At least the genius was coming to the end of his rant.

Reid continued on with his rant about the statistics of the NFL teams when they received another call on the tip line. Grabbing the phone, Rossi waved his hand, gesturing to the phone to quiet the young doctor. Reid immediately took the hint and closed his mouth and Rossi spoke to the person on the other line. Rossi's tone reflected what was going on in the man's head as he talked calmly yet sounded anxious as he talked to the caller. Instinctively, Reid knew that this call was the real deal. Without be told do so by the older profiler, Reid hopped up from his chair and sped walked all the way to Hotch's office.

Without bothering to knock, Reid poked his head in the doorway and said, "I think we got something."

In two seconds, Hotch was on his feet and following the young doctor out of his office and back to Rossi.

Ending the call, Rossi looked to Hotch. "A Greg Weber just received a package of photographs. The package was addressed to both him and his wife but had not been postmarked."

"Do they fit the victim type?"

Nodding, Rossi answered Hotch's question. "He's a white male age 38. His wife Tyneshia is a black female age 34." Rossi continued to relay to Hotch everything he'd heard on the phone.

The unit chief listened intently to what Rossi was saying. If the unsub followed his current pattern, he wouldn't attack Greg and Tyneshia for 48 hours. By then the couple and their two kids would be safely in protective custody. Glancing at his subordinates, Hotch barked out his orders. "Rossi, you're with me. Reid, you and JJ pick up the kids from school. Morgan and Prentiss will pick the wife up from work."

**xXx**

Tyneshia Weber gasped into the phone before hanging up. An agent Prentiss of the FBI had just contacted her saying that her and her husband were in danger. However, she was told not to panic as the agent calmly explained to her that agents were currently on their way to pick her up from work to place her and her family in protective custody until the man they were searching for was caught. Taking a deep breath, Tyneshia counted backwards from ten to calm her racing mind as she packed her belongings. The work day was coming to an end which she'd been looking for all day. Tonight was her family's weekly movie night and her nine year old son, Emmett, was excited to watch Cars 2 for the first time.

**xXx**

What? No! This couldn't be happening. The FBI was smarter than they looked as they were going to run interception and put this couple in their protective custody. This wasn't a part of his plan. He wasn't supposed to call the FBI. He had to get to them before the stupid feds did.

He just wanted to see the reaction on his face when he received the pictures. He wasn't supposed to get the FBI involved. All well, it was one minor variation to his original plan- an obstacle he could easily overcome.

This couple just had to meet their maker and pay for their sins earlier than expected.


End file.
